Blurry
by brain-wash-ed
Summary: Trent Boyett and Josh Meyers are 14 years old now, still in Juvie. They have known each other for a while now, Josh has come and gone. Slight slashimplied, JoshTrent.Originally meant to be a songfic for the song Blurry by Puddle of Mudd
1. Back

Josh stands back with a satisfied grin as he can see his creation now hanging on the wall. In the distance of Juvenile Hall, sounds of playing and fighting can be heard echoing throughout the corridors. It felt like a Sunday to the boy, but on the inside of the law, one tends to lose track of time. The other kids, particularly his room-mate, Trent Boyett, use their free time with sports, board games, and even fighting to be the best. Josh, however, prefers to sit in his cell, sketching out little pieces of his life.

_Humans are all really quite simple._ Josh thinks to himself. _They are all just pawns in the giant chessboard of life. Because that's all life is; a game. Learn the rules, understand the system, and you can beat it._

Something about the picture isn't quite right. Josh tilts his head to the side, attempting to have a different perspective on it.

_Yes, simple indeed…_

But his thoughts are interrupted when the door opens abruptly and Trent walks it. Josh turns around to smile at him, but Trent ignores this and looks straight at the drawing.

"Who's that? Your faggy boyfriend?" he smirks.

"Unfortunately, no. It's meant to be the Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

Trent grunts, but Josh smiles eerily, still looking intently at him.

"What the hell to you want, shithead?" Trent snarls. The verbal abuse doesn't faze Josh, as he shrugs his shoulders and counters "What is it that _you_would like, Trent?"

"I'd like _you_ outta my _face_." Trent grumbles. "But seein' as that ain't gonna happen anytime soon, I'm lookin' for my Russell Crowe videotapes."

"Oh, is that so."

"Yeah, seen 'em around?"

Josh motioned towards the desk on the side of the cell, where a couple of his own books are stacked atop the videos. Trent walks over and removes his possessions from the bottom of the stack. The books collapse into a small heap on the floor.

"Still unpackin'?"

"Yes, although I became inspired and had to draw."

"Well, keep your shit away from my stuff." Trent warns. "'Specially my Russell Crowe. I won those in a beef against Romper-Stomper, and I'm not gonna give those up for anything."

"So why is that?" Josh sees an opportunity. "What is so special about these videos anyway?" he demands. "It's really only fighting and fighting. Utterly ridiculous. Perhaps that is why you hold it so dear, having earned it through violence in the first place." He pauses and Trent glares stupidly at him. "You can ruin other people's lives with violence. But will it really make your own life any better? You can be the strongest, Trent, but it won't ever save you from the scars of the flames, the screams of the teacher, the-"

"Josh, get fucked."

Josh sighs, shuts up, and Trent is gone.

Just another regular conversation; and Josh stops to wonder for a moment.

_Is Trent a pawn as well?_

_ --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_

The juveniles are lying in their beds, late afternoon, resting after a hard day's work.

"Damn, I can't wait till this is fuckin' _over._"

Josh looked up from his resting position to stare at his blonde companion. "Oh, really? So what do you plan on doing when this is 'fuckin' over'?"

"Why the hell do you care?"

"Pure curiosity, I can assure you."

Trent didn't quite trust this, but he continued anyway, more for his own benefit than Josh's. "I'm gonna get the hell outta here," he mutters. "And I'm gonna make those shitheads _pay_."

"Excuse me?"

"Y'know, those kids I told you about. _The whole reason I'm here_."

"Oh, of course." Josh digests this for a moment. "So what in particular do you plan on doing?"

Trent glares at him._Stupid fuck asks so many goddamn questions._ "You know, the usual shit." Trent says cockily. "Trent Boyett style."

"And what is that, particularly?"

"Wedgies, noogies, swirlies, wet-willies, Indian sunburns, and of course, Texas Chili Bowls." Trent lists them as he's recited them in his head so many times.

"Immature, yet classy. I like how you think, Trent."

"Yeah, and you? With that 'toilet-papering' houses and whatever?"

"Indeed, I like to consider my form of 'damage' as an art."

"Pfft." Trent scoffs. "It doesn't seem like you're very good at what you're doin', isn't this the third time I seen yah here?"

Josh rolls over in his bed and doesn't respond.

"Hah. Toilet papering." Trent says with scorn, glad that for once _he_ has the upper hand. "And you act like you're all better than me."

"Well," Josh interrupts. "Toilet-papering isn't the _worst_ type of revenge. And it would be an interesting addition to your other mentioned punishments." His face wanes a smile. "It would add to the irony, as I believe those boys did the same to a _certain_ teacher."

"I'm not doin' that."

"Hm." Josh takes a moment to think. "Well, you could always take the advice from my all-time hero, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"What'd he do?"

Josh grins. "He ate his victims. But that was an art form as well."

"WHAT!" Trent explodes. "You're crazy!"

Josh sighs. "It was just a suggestion."

Trent huffs. "Your hero. I can't believe this. And _you're _my room-mate, of ALL people."

Josh grins widely, only encouraged by this.

"Besides, one of those kids is like, enormous." Trent adds. "Do you have any idea how many calories that would be?"


	2. Always

Josh was putting his things back into the suitcase. Trent scoffed. "Leaving so soon, fucktard?"

"I admire your extensive vocabulary in the form of insults; alas, I am preparing to go home."

Trent takes a moment, surprised that he guessed correctly.

"So…you're actually done with Juvie?"

"At least until I am caught again in my little acts of _vandalism, _yes." Josh smiles deviously.

"Well _good._" Trent snarls. "Now I can finally have this room to myself again."

"I'm glad you approve." Josh folds his clothes and places them neatly in his bag. There is a silence between them.

_Two weeks, damn._ Trent sits down on the bed, falling into his own thoughts. _That was fast. Why the hell couldn't my sentence be so short? I mean, toilet-papering someone's house, that's like, _almost_ as bad as setting a fire, right?_

"In any event," Josh begins again, an interruption. "I will be gone by the morning, oh-four-hundred hours, as they say, surely far before you awaken."

"I don't give a shit."

Trent reminds himself of what his friend Ralph had always told him.

"_You come with nobody, and you leave with nobody."_

But sometimes he suspected that even Ralph didn't believe it when he said it.

_ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

"Fuck."

Josh's eyes burst open, as he was already in a somewhat alert state of sleeping. The voice came from next to his bunk, quiet, but strong. No doubt, from Trent Boyett.

The young boy raises his eyebrow, wondering if it were just nonsensical sleep talk, but again.

"Fuck."

"Trent?" Josh asks softly, his true voice exposed, much higher pitched and not nearly as frightening as the one he usually used.

"Fuck!"

"Are you…?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay!" Trent growls, thrashing in his bed. It is early, and still dark everywhere. "I'm fucking _pissed_!"

Josh doesn't know how to respond to this. "I…"

"Shut up!" Trent orders. He gets up from his bed. "I don't need to take any more shit from you."

Josh tries to swallow a lump in his throat. "I was just…"

"Shut the fuck up." Trent repeats.

There is a short silence, and then Trent roars. "I can't take it anymore!" The boy smashes his fist into the wall of the small cell. He throws himself against the sides, screaming in emotional agony. His deep voice echoes all throughout the hallway.

Josh stands himself up as well and walks cautiously in the direction of the noise. He can feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. It's almost painful. "Shh, it's okay."

"It's not okay. It has never been okay, and it will never be okay." Trent turns to face him, breathing heavily and spitting anger. "I am so tired of juvenile hall, I'm tired of my life, I'm tired of those four fuckers out there enjoying their stupid lives, but most of all, I'm tired of _you._"

Josh blinked.

"There's no point in my life anymore, either." Trent continued, pure contempt dripping from his tongue. "I have nothin'. I am nothin'. I might as well just die now."

"No, Trent,"

"You know it's true! My family is **gone**! And I still have another year of juvie! And then what?! I never should'a been born in the first place! Nobody gives a shit about Trent Boyett, right?!"

Josh tried again to take control. "Shh, Trent, not so loud…"

Trent narrowed his eyebrows, and dared to step forward. "I'm gettin' pretty sick of you interrupting me, Josh."

Josh gasped in the cold blackness, afraid of what might come.

"I don't _care_ who hears me. I **want** them to hear me. Nobody ever listened to_my _side of the story. Not even for a fucking _second_."

Josh sighs and looks down, expecting to get thrashed any minute now. He almost hopes he would, to break the horrible tension.

"I'm…so…tired…of being alone."

This comes as a surprise. No one speaks for a moment, and Josh realizes that Trent is crying.

He still can't see anything, but he can hear the tears, although Trent is trying to hide it.

The muscular blonde slides down onto the hard floor, and crumples himself up, leaning his back against the wall.

"I can't do it. I want to die." The boy whimpers, almost too hushed to hear.

Josh's mouth drops open. He walks closer and follows by sliding down to the ground until his and Trent's legs are just barely touching.

"I'm sorry." Josh says.

Trent puts his head in his own hands, and is shaking violently. The tears pour, boiling.

"I have nothin'." Trent murmurs.

Josh wonders if this is the first time Trent has cried since babyhood. He pushes himself closer, tighter next to his companion.

"_I'm_ here for you." Josh tells him as quietly as he can.

"That's shit." Trent growls. "You're leaving again tomorrow, and I don't even_like_ you. That ain't really friendship."

Even Josh longed so badly for acceptance.

"I'll return."

"Huh?"

Josh grimaced. "This is certainly not the last you'll ever see of me, Trent."

"What do'yah mean?" Trent began to sound irritated again.

"You don't have to be alone, Trent. That's what people are here for."

"But I hate everyon' and they all hate _me_."

Josh shuts his eyes, pauses, and then responds. "I don't hate you."

Trent grits his teeth. "Well, why the fuck _not_?!" He can't stand this range of emotion.

"Listen to me, Trent Boyett." Josh begins. "I didn't get caught in the act of toilet-papering, due to my own lack of care. I planned it. And don't you find it any coincidence at all that we happened to be in the same cell again?"

"…but I thought…"

"I didn't think I needed anyone in this ridiculous world. But you interest me. And it isn't just pity. It isn't mere physical attraction, or admiration of strength."

Trent could never fully comprehend what Josh was saying, but he keeps his mouth closed.

"I'll be back for you, Trent. Always."

Trent sighs, able to fight no more, exhausted and trapped, and accepts this.

The two young boys lean on each others shoulders, closing their eyes, and it isn't long until the distant rays of the sun find their way through the barred glass window into the room, warning them of the morning.

_ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

When Trent awakes again, he is alone. His eyes dart around the room, but it is empty. The adolescent sighs, and picks himself up. "Whatever." He mutters, trying to convince himself of indifference, but the tone in his voice makes it clear that this is not so.


	3. Bite My Tongue

Trent sits at his own table in the lunchroom.

Juvenile Hall _with_ Josh was bad enough. He never knew it could become so much worse.

It was unbearable.

The name echoes again and again in his mind. His face is melting, and he doesn't want to forget it.

Trent wondered what the hell he was doing.

Josh was just another kid, just another mindless fuck living his stupid happy life. Why would Trent give a rat's ass about him? Why would he even give him a second thought in hell?

The young delinquent didn't understand it at all, and it makes him angry. He decides not to think about it, and instead he stares at the revolting food they have served today. _Some sort of chili shit._

Trent sticks his fork in it, and wonders what fava beans must taste like.

_ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

It was a month before Josh returned again. That was a shorter amount of time then either of them had expected before the next strike.

He comes back to their cell during a recess, and Trent is waiting there to greet him. Suddenly playing useless fighting tricks with the other boys didn't seem so fun.

"So you're back."

"Indeed I am."

There is a short silence. Trent looks away, but Josh still looks honorably towards the center of Trent's eyes. He smiles.

"Did you miss me, dear Trent Boyett?"

Trent's heart flutters, but he scowls in response. "Not really. I kinda forgot about you."

Josh's face falls slightly, as he questions the truth in this. "Oh, well I missed our little talks quite a bit."

Trent smirks but it is hidden in the shadows of his face turned to the side.

"Ain't your reputation gonna suffer if you keep letting yourself get caught like this?"

"Ah, what is my reputation anyway?" Josh responds wistfully. "Besides, I don't particularly care what others think of me. All that matters is what I know of my abilities."

"Oh."

"So." Josh breaks, unsure where to lead with this. "I was contemplating a bit about your plot for revenge."

Trent faces him. "Huh?"

"Don't you agree that this revenge deserves a bit more than just physical pain?" Josh demands. "Of course, Texas Chili Bowls are certainly fun; however, I think psychological damage is always the greatest. But then, of course, I would."

"What do yah mean?"

"What I mean is," Josh's voice doesn't falter. "I want to help you."

Trent stares astonished at the shorter boy.

"I want these boys to_pay_, mentally and physically, for what they've done to you."

"You want to help_me_?" Trent sputters, wondering if anyone had ever care this much.

Josh smiles sincerely at Trent.

"I want them to choke to death when they swallow their tongues. And they will. I will be there to ensure that."


	4. Forward

Trent sits eating the corn meal, which tastes like shit and is trying to pass as a reasonable breakfast.

Josh slides next to him in his assumed seat.

It is now well known by the rest of the kids that you _don't _sit at Trent's table, and you _especially_ don't sit in Josh's spot.

"I think we're both crazy." Trent says, chomping loudly.

"Yes, I've thought I was some sort of sociopath for a while now." Josh analyzes. "And probably you as well, that _would _explain your extreme lack of compassion for_ anything, _now wouldn't it?" Josh laughs heartily. "We make a good team, you and I." Josh states. "My superior manipulation abilities and your incredible strength."

Trent grunts and keeps eating.

"You know what I think we should do?" Josh asks, and whispers close to Trent's ear. He can feel his breath on his skin, and it gives him goose-bumps. "We should break out of here."

A light goes off in Trent's head. "You mean escape?" he murmurs back.

"Yes."

It is so tempting. To_at last _be away from it all, to start over, to run away forever with Josh, it's almost dreamlike.

"No."

Josh was dumbfounded. "_N-No_? Don't you want to leave it all? Isn't that what you really want - I can help you…"

"No, fucktard." Trent scowls. "If we run away, we'll be at risk for getting caught again, and being stuck here even longer. I want it to be over, and never come back here again. There's only a month left."

Josh nods in understanding. "That's a bit pessimistic, is it not, Trent Boyett?"

"You have no idea how fuckin' unlucky my life has been."

"I suppose you're right."

_ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

And that happens to be a great day at that; the day they are released. Josh had planned his crime so that he would be leaving at the exact date and time as Trent. They are chatting in their room, waiting in the few moments left, to be taken away.

Trent is smiling so widely that his lips ache.

"It's finally over. This nightmare…is finally gonna be fuckin' over with."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened." Josh muses. "Of course it is a very depressing thought to admit that you have lost ten years of your life to pure idiocy, but then again…" Trent glares at him, and Josh decides not to ruin it for his friend. "Only the more reason to get revenge." He adds quickly.

"And only the sweeter it will be." Trent finishes.

There is a moment of peace, and then Josh has the impulse to speak his usual disturbing mind.

"Have I ever told you how fond I am of your Coloradan-redneck drawl?"

"What?!"

"It's true; I find it quite _cute_. It reminds me of Clarice's West Virginian dialect."

Trent tries to ignore this very strange connection. "Y'know, I still haven't seen Silence of Lambs."

"Yes, I did know that." Josh replies. "However, I intend to change that."

Trent glares at him, and the raven haired boy continues. "

"Am I mistaken, or do you have nothing left?"

Trent frowns. "I…no. No family, no home, no friends. Nothin'."

"Well, then what are your plans?"

Trent blinks, and realizes his flawed logic.

"Did you expect to get your much desired retribution, and then simply fade away from existence?"

"I dunno, I guess."

Josh shakes his head. "No, that will not do. You will stay with me and my_ beloved_ family for at least the beginning of your time in the free, open air of the world."

Trent sighs. "I don't understand yah, kid."

"You don't have to." Josh grins. "But I must warn, I do have an appointment immediately after our release." He pauses to consider. "You could come too, if you like."

"Really? What is it?"

"I'm having an old friend for dinner."

The doors opens, and it is time to go.


End file.
